


Fool's Blues

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [51]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: They don't go straight to sleep after unearthing Molly's past, they go out drinking to forget.





	Fool's Blues

Molly can’t remember ever passing out before when drinking, but he’s so stressed and so upset and just wants everything to go away… so it does. He knocks back so much whiskey with Caleb, so much of something blue with Beau, he has a glass of milk with Jester and slips a shot of vodka into his glass when she isn’t looking because he feels like garbage but he doesn’t want to let her down. She’s distracted by Beau taking her chin and kissing her with a sloppy kind of ferocity, Yasha leans against a wall and smirks, almost brightly, she knows her turn will come and Molly throws back the weird milkshake before he smiles at her and stands.   
He and Beau pound the bottle of pearlescent blue alcohol, there’s a combined strong taste of sugar, blueberry, and  _ alcohol _ , like the kind Jester would use on their wounds, they knock it back in shot form. One after another, Caleb joins them for a couple of rounds, Molly pulls him onto his lap for lack of a third seat and Beau gives Molly a knowing smirk, he doesn’t catch her give Caleb the same expression. Molly can still feel the burning sense of  _ shut up _ and decides, promptly, that he isn’t drunk enough. He pours them all another shot and Caleb takes his quick and sudden and leaves, slips off of Molly’s lap with little more than a quick pat and squeeze to his knee. Molly and Beau are left alone again. He takes the bottle from the side and chugs.   
“I paid for that.” Beau says, but there’s none of her usual heat to it, it’s more an idle observation than a complaint.   
Molly eyes her, wincing through his gulps, and sets it down when he can no longer stand the burn in his throat.    
“I’ll pay you back.” the words feel like fire against the raw chemical burn of his throat, he wouldn’t mind, it’s a good drink, tastes good.   
Beau squints at him, judgemental, almost, shakes her head,   
“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but… nah. You need it more than I do.” She pushes the bottle closer to him, “‘Least mine are into me.”   
“Oh, that obvious?” Molly says, miserable, he’s far too sober still despite the fact his vision is doubling and blurring. He takes another swig.   
“Molly, the only person less subtle than you is  _ me _ , and that’s because I ain’t trying.” Beau levels and stands, stretches, “Just go fuckin’ make out, or some shit, that’s what I’m gonna do.”   
She turns away and heads to Yasha’s side, even the affectionate Jester won’t touch her too much when she’s drunk, but come morning, the three will be tangled up together in bed.   
Molly swallows down the rest of the bottle and when he stands he almost falls over. He’s stopped only by Fjord’s arm, which swoops in around his waist before he realises he’s going down.   
“Watch y’self, Molly.” Fjord’s drawl is as slurred as Molly’s voice is, he’s drunk, too, Molly frowns, he doesn’t remember watching Fjord drink. Usually, he’s enamoured, with everything he or Caleb does, the bob of a swallow, there’s been a few times now that Fjord has woken up to Molly standing by a window and pulled him into bed, a few times, now, that Molly has woken up, sprawled partially on Fjord’s chest, an arm around him.    
Fjord pulls, draws Molly in a little closer,   
“Don’t wanna hurt yourself.”   
Molly sighs, audibly, snuggles a little closer to Fjord’s shoulder and slurs a  _ love you _ but maybe he doesn’t, because he passes out in Fjord’s arms.   
He remembers nothing until cold air, when he opens his eyes, he sees Fjord’s face, expression concerned, watching him, carrying him bridal style in his arms.   
There’s someone stroking through Molly’s hair, too, so he turns his head slightly in the direction that  _ isn’t _ Fjord’s chest to check it out.   
His hearing kicks in a few seconds after his vision, he catches sight of Caleb and the tail end of his sentence,   
“-Never seen him like this.” He’s saying to Fjord, his fingers are running steady patterns through Molly’s hair, Fjord hums, Molly feels it reverberate,   
“He’s had a stressful night, really, we all have. Gotta cut him some slack.”   
“I- I know that I do not deal well with my problems, but Mollymauk- but Molly,” he says  _ Molly _ so carefully and deliberately, “He is usually the one that understands the repercussions of his coping mechanisms. The rest of us often disregard them.”   
“‘M here.” Molly mutters, finally, and Fjord pauses to put him down. He sways a little, but he’s no longer seeing double, so he thinks he’s sobered up a little since he collapsed in Fjord’s arms.   
“Mollym- M- Molly, are, you okay?” Caleb is at one shoulder, Fjord at the other, the wizard is oddly clingy and affectionate and it probably has something to do with the blush haze of booze on his cheeks. He’s pressed up to Molly’s side, his fingers clasped and linked over Molly’s shoulder, and Molly winds an arm almost unconsciously around his waist, one around Fjord’s on the other side.   
He pulls at them, squeezes, smiles,   
“Better now.”   
“Now that y’aint chuggin’ Beau’s  _ Fool’s Blues _ , y’mean?” Fjord quirks an eyebrow and Molly chuckles,   
“Is that what that was?”   
“It- it is a top shelf drink, I never say no to a free shot of top shelf.” Caleb gives a wry smile, and the three begin to walk again, Molly looks around,   
“Where are they?”   
“Oh, they went home early. They took Nott, too, something a- about a girl’s slumber party, though I worry for Nott’s inclusion with those three in a bed.”   
“Naw, Jester won’t touch Beau when she’s drunk.” Fjord shakes his head, affectionate and smiling, “Beau’ll be all over Yasha, Jester and Nott’ll be makin’ some mischief.”   
“Should check our room for pranks.” Molly smiles, The Leaky Tap comes into sight, Caleb sighs almost happily and tips his head gently into Molly’s shoulder, one hand moves to his collar, another skims down around Molly’s waist, settles over Fjord’s, he’s rewarded with a warm smile from the man himself.   
“If Fjord doesn’t mind,” Molly looks to him as he speaks, “Caleb, we’ve been sharing a bed for a bit, helps with the nightmares. I, I think, you should stay with us?”   
The question is directed to Fjord, the request to Caleb, Fjord nods in agreement.   
“It’d be nice to have a handsome man in my bed fer once.”   
Molly barks a laugh, Caleb crinkles his nose,   
“But, Molly-?”   
“Not a man.” Molly grins with a shadow of himself and turns to press a quick kiss to Caleb’s forehead, “Just weird.”   
“An attractive weirdo.” Fjord smiles, they split into single file to move through the bar up to Molly and Fjord’s room.

 

The three collapse into bed, Fjord first, then Molly, then Caleb, sweeping Molly into the middle with peppered kisses. There’s no drunken, over-the-top confession of feelings, who knows whether any of it is real? All that Molly knows is that Caleb tastes like whiskey, Fjord tastes like seawater, and he feels so safe in their arms that for the first time in months, he doesn’t dream about clawing his way up. There’s no dirt in his face, no taste, weight of earth. There is only Fjord, Caleb, and an endless expanse of fresh air and sky.


End file.
